


Tempest

by vtn



Category: The Network (Band)
Genre: Bloodplay, M/M, Power Play, Pre-Canon, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-08-02
Updated: 2006-08-02
Packaged: 2017-11-17 17:00:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/553838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vtn/pseuds/vtn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Doctor Viktor Svengali believes in a great many things.  He believes in the Big Bang, reincarnation, the electron cloud model, the Tarot, a certain prophecy, and his ability to influence people in any way he wishes.  But that last rule has an exception: his young student, Wilhelm Fink, is as unpredictable and as temperamental as a summer storm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tempest

**Author's Note:**

> Contains violent sex. Wilhelm is of age (19).

“I don’t believe you, Dr. Svengali.I already know what I believe.And what I _don’t_.”

“But you see, Wilhelm, there are things you’ve probably never even considered believing in.”

“Do I look like I give a shit?”

Doctor Viktor Svengali believes in a great many things.He believes in the Big Bang, reincarnation, the electron cloud model, the Tarot, a certain prophecy, and his ability to influence people in any way he wishes.He also believes there are exceptions to every rule: the Big Bang started the universe, but something must have come before it, for instance.The last rule has an exception, too: his young student, Wilhelm Fink, is as unpredictable and as temperamental as a summer storm.

Oh, he can influence Wilhelm; that is certain—he has watched the boy latch on to Svengali’s own theories and passions and pour energy into them just as he once would have point-blank refused to do.But on other occasions he will try and open Wilhelm’s eyes to something, but the boy will squeeze them shut and turn away.

“Do I _look_ like I give a _shit_?”Wilhelm folds his arms but disentangles one to comb through his unruly hair.“I’m not one of those problems that go away when you ignore them, you know.”

“I’m not ignoring you, I’m simply thinking.”

“About how to convince me.And if you think I’ll suddenly be convinced because you—”

“About how you _confuse_ me.”

Wilhelm steps up to Svengali, grabs him by the chin, and kisses him roughly.

“Yeah, I think I fuckin’ do.”He grins.“It’s because I’m your weakness.”Svengali brings one leg around to the other side of Wilhelm’s boots, effectively cornering him.He knows, and he knows that Wilhelm knows, there is only one way to appease him, calm him, when he’s frustrated.About a year and a half ago it was fantasizing.Eight months ago it was putting the boy into a trance and running hands along his naked body.These days, they are lovers, so it’s easier.

“And _you_ have no weakness, then?Are you yet so impenetrable?”He snaps at the boy’s ear, tugs at the cartilage with his teeth.

“Hell, I’m _penetrable_.Doesn’t mean I have no weaknesses.”Wilhelm pulls away, rubbing at his bite-marked ear.“I know you can get inside my demented psyche.And, actually, inside me, too.”He runs his hands down his arms, straightening his sleeves. 

“I think you have weaknesses.Not me; you are too controlled to let your affections override your own desires.Your weakness is that occasionally you are afraid, because you are a man without an afterlife; a man without a destiny.” Svengali wants to reach for the boy again, wants to tug his slacks down around his knees.But he doesn’t.He’s weak enough to think it, not to do it.

“So this is all coming back to how I don’t believe in this theory of yours, isn’t it?I know my own fuckin’ weakness.”Wilhelm sighs and once again rakes a hand through his hair.“My weakness is I’m afraid of not getting what I want.Harmless, see?Since you’ll give me what I want whether you want to or not.You’re powerless against me.”

“Theories be damned; that one can be excused!”He lashes out toward the boy, but Wilhelm, eyes gleaming, raises a hand sign to ward off the Devil.Svengali retreats.“But you don’t believe in Satan, do you?Or God?Or any higher power?”

“ _I’m_ the higher power,” says Wilhelm.“I’m the Messiah.I’m also the Antichrist.I’m the product of God’s one temptation and Satan’s one mistake.”

“Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if the Christian God did have leanings in that direction; his followers as well.Otherwise, he wouldn’t need to remind them against it, now would he?”The funny thing is that Wilhelm is _his_ temptation and his one mistake as well.But probably the best mistake he’s ever made.

“Everyone knows God was a homosexual, damn it,” says Wilhelm.

“If you’re the higher power, then God is slightly less decisive in his leanings.”

“I’m not indecisive!I know what I like.”Wilhelm dismisses the notion of confusion with a wave of his hand, like there’s something dirty on the end.“God was the higher power until I killed him.Didn’t you see the obituary?But don’t worry, I wrote a letter to his parents telling him I was sorry.It was Metis and Cronos, wasn’t it?Except isn’t Cronos dead because he ate a rock?”

“I’d say we ought to go over Greek mythology again.”Svengali kicks off his boots.“But I have the feeling you don’t want to think about school at the moment.”

“Not particularly, no!”Wilhelm kicks off his own boots, then exits the room to venture further into Svengali’s house, leaving the door swinging on its hinges behind him.Svengali cannot help but follow.

He finds Wilhelm exactly where he thought he would: draped over the bed, his feet bare and his button-down shirt open.He stands over the boy and then crawls onto the bed, one knee on either side of Wilhelm’s pelvis.

“No,” says Wilhelm.That troubles Svengali.He’s never said no before.“No,” he repeats.“Take your clothes off.I know neither of us want all this messing around today.”And so Svengali gets to his feet, resenting having to obey orders.He decides to give one of his own.

“Lie still.I’ll undress you, then I’ll work on myself.Don’t say a word.”

“What if I do?”Svengali smacks him across the face sharply.Wihelm hisses through his teeth but silently consents to being swiftly stripped.Now Svengali undresses himself and turns to Wilhelm. 

“Let us say that perhaps I want to hurt you, but in a way that will be to both of our benefit.What shall I do?”It isn’t the first time, but the other times were messes of trial and error.Svengali just wants to accomplish something quickly for once.

“Well—”Svengali slaps him again, and Wilhelm whines like a kicked dog.

“I never told you you could speak, Fink.”

Wilhelm curls in his shoulders. 

“You asked me a question.”His voice is tiny.Svengali hits his arm now.

“This is to both of our benefit.You may speak.”Now Wilhelm smiles.

“You may keep hitting me.As much as you like.But today I want to hit back.You’d damn well better not have anything in your blood that’s contagious.”Svengali leans on Wilhelm’s chest, his elbows settling into the recess that halves it, pushing downward, eliciting another whine from Wilhelm’s lips.

“But you’re right.We shouldn’t waste time.”He stands then slaps Wilhelm between his legs.Wilhelm cries out softly, but his erection stays hard against Svengali’s hand.

“Put on a goddamn condom.”There’s a catch in the boy’s voice that Svengali doesn’t miss, a catch that says _hurry_.So hurry he does.He almost wants to linger, though; he likes the feel of his hand against his own cock.The feel of Wilhelm’s hands would be better, or better yet the feel of Wilhelm’s body writhing around it.

“Don’t make a single noise,” Svengali warns as he looks into Wilhelm’s steeled eyes.He lowers himself to the bed, pinning Wilhelm, and shifts until he’s positioned.Unprepared, entering him has the potential to be laborious, but the words _messing around_ and _shouldn’t waste time_ hang in the air, so he doesn’t take the time to be careful.Instead, he knees Wilhelm in the groin, and while the boy cries out in agony, he takes advantage of the momentary loss of control to shove his cock into him.Then he remembers his order, and slaps his face again. 

Wilhelm, _grinning_ like a mad thing, claws at the sensitive skin around Svengali’s eyes and nipples until Svengali knows it must be red and sore.He thrusts into him with such force that their hipbones crack together.And then he kisses Wilhelm, wanting to sweeten the bitter, but sharp pain runs down his throat and he realizes Wilhelm is biting his tongue.And all the while the two are fighting with hands and elbows and knees and there’s _blood_ on the sheets, _mein Gott im Himmel there’s blood on the sheets_.

Svengali feels Wilhelm’s hand snake down between him to close over his cock, feels the thin fingers against the hair at the bottom of his stomach.

“What are you doing?” he barks.Pleasuring Wilhelm should be _his_ task alone.But then he sees the earnest tears in the boy’s eyes.

“Hurts,” says Wilhelm weakly, “Chafing…” and he gasps for breath and then digs the nails of his other hand deep into Viktor’s chest, clutching at the loose skin above Viktor’s right nipple.Viktor feels his own blood, slick on Wilhelm’s fingers, and he swallows the sickness that’s rising in his throat.He focuses more on the feeling of Wilhelm’s nails suddenly everywhere on his chest and the sight of Wilhelm’s flushed face, the sound of his ragged breaths.Svengali smiles through the sheen of sweat he feels on his lips and brings his hands to the boy’s throat.His practiced touch knows how to bring Wilhelm just to the edge of reason and back in time to drive away the black spiders of unconsciousness that he knows will be creeping into Wilhelm’s eyes.

The boy’s lips move, and then he feels Wilhelm come, hot against his stomach.He knows what Wilhelm is mouthing now. _Fuck you._

And then _he_ comes, still thrusting into Wilhelm until the last vestiges of his climax spark and fade.

He removes his hands from Wilhelm’s neck, slides out of Wilhelm, wraps the boy in his arms and holds him like he’s never held him before.Predatorily, territorially, _no one shall take what is mine._

Wilhelm laughs softly, slips into a string of curses.

“Fuck you, motherfucking— _fick dich_ , Arschloch, Wichser, Hurensohn _,_ thick-headed cocksucking _pedophile_ son of a bitch.Fuck you to hell.Fucking _love you_ , fucking _fuck you_ , fucking…”

They kiss, gentle but still painful on raw lips.Svengali holds him.Does not let go.


End file.
